


Woodfield and Dingle

by alwaysbabe



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26426287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwaysbabe/pseuds/alwaysbabe
Summary: Detective constable Dingle is under pressure not to put a foot wrong at work after a difficult year of bad judgements, and much to her dismay she’s stuck with the newbie: Detective Constable Woodfield. When they tackle their first case together, Charity soon decides that Vanessa isn’t half bad and they could actually make a decent team. It helps that she’s not too hard to look at. A Scott and Bailey inspired Vanity detective au.
Relationships: Charity Dingle/Vanessa Woodfield
Comments: 9
Kudos: 27





	Woodfield and Dingle

**Author's Note:**

> Just a content warning first - there are mentions/descriptions of corpses and there are mentions of some victims of sexual assault in this, nothing too major or graphic but just a warning if that’ll be upsetting to you!
> 
> At the beginning of lockdown I got obsessed with Scott and Bailey and then this idea wouldn’t leave me alone. Please read the notes at the end too and if you have time comments are very much appreciated!

“You asked for scene experience, get these on and join me.” Harriet, detective chief inspector, bombards her with instructions as soon as she arrives at the factory. Charity hurries to pull on the blue suit, fighting to secure her hair within the unflatteringly tight hood before rushing after Harriet, fumbling to pull on the latex gloves as she jogs, trying not to slip on the shoe covers.

“There was a fire here in summer, man died and insurance wouldn’t cover it so the place has been deserted ever since. Body was found wrapped in plastic by builders assessing the site this morning,” Harriet fills her in, “what questions come to mind?” She tests.

“Is this the scene of the murder or just where the body was dumped? Judging by the tight wrapping I’d imagine it’s a dumping site.”

“And?”

“Well there’s not much around, nothing obvious that would point us towards any witnesses. Whether that was deliberate or not would be helpful to know. If they’d been looking out for somewhere convenient to dump a body they may have had this site on their radar, I’m assuming no CCTV survived the fire? And it’s pretty out of the way, not on a bus route, no houses around. Which then begs the question how did they find it. Can we get the records of who worked here?”

“That’ll be a good place to start, though there are a million different explanations for somebody deciding to dump their victim here. So let’s not ignore other options to follow that lead.” Harriet warned, subtly reminding Charity of her past mistakes, a hunch distracting her from the correct line of inquiry that she had been told to follow. Extending the investigation by three days, only three days, but three days that led to another woman being attacked. Charity hadn’t forgotten, hadn’t forgiven herself. It infuriates Charity every time Harriet hints at it, not being forthcoming enough to actually mention it, enough to get under her skin but not enough to appear provocative if Charity ever lost it. Which she has in the past, but it’s important she doesn’t step a foot out of line, formal investigation has been threatened more than once. She can’t lose this job.

“We’re getting a new member of the team today. DC Woodfield, from Yorkshire but trained and worked in London for a while but is now returning to West Yorkshire police. Maybe this time you’ll make a friend so you’re not alienated from the  _ whole  _ team. I’ll be sending her to speak to the family with you so.”

“Brilliant. Just what today needs.”

“Play nice, Charity.” Harriet reprimands as they approach the body, being careful not to disrupt the ground in case of damaging evidence. Harriet gently peels back part of the wrapping, revealing a clump of blonde hair whilst Charity takes a look at the bottom corner where the plastic has ripped slightly, maggots crawl through the hole she expands by pulling the plastic back and it’s clear the victim has been dead for some time.

* * *

Vanessa insisted on driving, and it’s not like Charity to give in so easily but it’s easier to interrogate from the passenger seat, more entertaining when you can watch the body language of the person whose life you’re prying into. 

They drive in silence for a while, Charity not being shy of watching Vanessa, noticing the way the sunlight catches her high ponytail of soft blonde hair, and how she’s concentrating on the road but still has the ghost of a smile on her face, if Charity was soppy she’d note that it fits her personality; positive, friendly, warm. Either she doesn’t notice she’s being watched, or Vanessa has a good poker face, Charity hopes it’s the latter or else this’ll be a long investigation of her doing all the thinking.

“So. Detective constable Woodfield. What brings you back to Yorkshire?” Charity’s tone is flat, laced with unnecessary sarcasm considering the mundane nature of her question, but Charity can’t help herself.

“London was fine when I was young and reckless, but thought I should remember my roots and head back north in time for my son to start school. Would also quite like for him to have a garden to play in without having to sell a kidney on the black market to afford a house with one.”

“What took you to London in the first place?

Vanessa pauses, “as much as I would love to talk about myself all day, we should probably save our energy for the game of 20 questions we’re about to play with the husband,” she quips.

“Now that’s a very lighthearted way of looking at breaking the worst news of somebody’s life. Didn’t have you down as the insensitive type, Woodfield.”

“And I didn’t have you down as the caring type.”

“Whatever could have given that impression?”

“Perhaps the fact that in the brief time I spent back at the station, I received three separate good luck handshakes,” Vanessa laughs, ending the conversation as they pull up to the house.

Charity opens her mouth to introduce herself but is interrupted by Vanessa who steps in front of her.

“I’m DC Woodfield, this is DC Dingle, West Yorkshire police major incident team.” 

Charity’s distracted, almost dropping her ID when going to show it to the victim’s husband. She smiles at the man standing in the doorway before returning her gaze to the back of Vanessa’s head.

“Don’t forget to pick your jaw up off the floor before coming in, Charity.” Vanessa mutters under her breath, smirking, before following him inside leaving her on the doorstep.

She likes Vanessa, she decides at that moment.

“Mr Greenshaw, my name is Charity, and this is Vanessa. You reported your wife Mallory missing 15 days ago, is that correct?”

“Y-yes,” he stutters, tears already soaking his cheeks.

“This morning we received a call that a body had been found at an old factory site, and we have reason to believe that the body is that of your wife.”

“Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god,” Mr Greenshaw sobs, and Vanessa moves to sit next to him on the sofa, tissues in hand. She sits close enough for him to feel her presence while he has his head in his hands sobbing, but refrains from touching him. As he looks up at her, she places a comforting hand on his arm, her face softens as she gives him a reassuring smile.

“I’m sorry this isn’t better news,” she interjects, “and we won’t know for certain until you come in and identify the body. But we are fairly confident it is her, she matches the description and it looks as if she died around a fortnight ago.”

“How did she?”

“Cause of death has been identified asphyxiation, meaning she was deprived of oxygen until she suffocated.” Charity informs him, keeping her voice steady, Vanessa clearly has the role of comforting the bereaved under control, so she does what she does best: provides the facts.

“And you think it was m-mur, you think she was murdered?”

“There are indications that she was strangled, yes.”

“Was she hurt any other way? Surely she wasn’t-”

“I’m sorry, Mr Greenshaw, there is evidence to suggest she was sexually assaulted.”

At that he crumples, and Vanessa places a comforting arm around his back as she looks to Charity and gently shakes her head. Further questions can wait.

This is a part of the job that has never come easily to Charity, kind words and comforting of relatives or victims. She has to make a conscious effort to phrase things sensitively when necessary, something she can tell comes very naturally to Vanessa. She’s always impressed by officers she works with that can do the comforting thing, get close to those in pain and still hold it together. She’s good at keeping her distance, delivering the facts as sensitively as she can but maintaining the distance that allows her to see them as just another case. She’s hard-faced while Vanessa is open and soft, and Charity thinks that they might just have the potential to make a good team. 

* * *

Charity heads straight to Harriet’s office when they return to the station, completely ignoring the rest of the team cracking jokes about Vanessa surviving her first task with Charity. Vanessa joins them, agreeing to head to the pub after work for a pint with them to celebrate her first day here.

“You boys don’t half exaggerate, she’s nowhere near as bad as you said.”

“Has she paid you to say that? Oh my god Vanessa are you sleeping with the enemy already? We thought we could trust you!” Pete jibes.

“What do you take us for?”

“Rule number one, DC Woodfield, never underestimate Charity Dingle. Never put anything past her, especially when it comes to personal relationships with attractive blonde female colleagues,” he says, winking before dramatically spinning back around to his desk.

Vanessa lets her gaze wander to the office, watching as Charity gives Harriet the run down of the meeting with the husband. The journey to and from the house had been full of questions, all pointed towards Vanessa. Charity was great at deflecting every time Vanessa got a question in there, but she clearly doesn’t have quite so many secrets from the rest of her team. They seem to know her well, and their judgement doesn’t at all match the one Vanessa has conjured up in the few hours she has known her. 

“Vanessa. Post mortem time, you coming? Harriet asks, breaking her out of her trance. She’s followed closely by Charity, and although post mortems have always been her least favourite part of the job she finds herself eager to join them.

The room is as cold and clinical as every other she’s ever been in, and Liam is just as insensitive as most of the pathologists Vanessa has worked with; lifting up limbs and dropping them back onto the metal slab with no care or respect for the deceased. Very little new information arises from the post mortem, other than some minor details like the state of her oral hygiene and a very small level of alcohol in her blood, but their attention was drawn to a coin purse that had been stuffed inside her jacket pocket. It was sodden and filthy, with not much inside other than some loose change and a folded piece of card. Vanessa watches as Charity removes the water stained paper and unfolds it as carefully as she can to avoid tearing. Vanessa can’t read the smudged ink from where she’s was standing, but she recognises the logo in the top corner. It’s a contact card belonging to someone from West Yorkshire police. 

“Can you make out the name?” Vanessa prompted, but received no reply as Charity placed the card on the table ready for photographing. “Charity?”

“Hm?” she asked, turning away from the task at hand.

“The name. Can you make it out?”

“Detective Inspector Declan Macey.”

“Everything alright in here? Found anything useful? Harriet joins them, interrogating them both for updates as usual.

“Not many belongings but she did have the card of a DI Macey in her purse, might point us towards a suspect? If she’d wanted to report a crime but chickened out or not had enough evidence she may have been a target,” suggested Charity.

“If that was the case there should have been some record of that in the system, surely an officer wouldn’t just hand over a card and record nothing of the meeting?” Vanessa added.

“You’d think. Unless the copper in question was useless.” Charity struggles to keep the contempt out of her voice.

“Do you know him or something?” Vanessa asks, and Charity looks over to her with an unreadable expression on her face, but Vanessa has a hunch that something is up, she hasn’t known her long but knows it takes a lot to shake Charity up; her focus has been elsewhere since she found the card. Before she has to brush Vanessa off with a half truth Harriet interrupts,

“I’ve heard of him, he’s a pretty well respected detective, doesn’t strike me as the kind to leave a job half finished. Get him on the phone Charity, see if he can shed any light.”

**Author's Note:**

> In this Declan is still Charity’s ex husband but the whole attempting to kill Charity/accidentally killing Robbie situation didn’t happen because him being a police officer after that would just Not make sense. Never written an AU before so not even sure if I needed to clarify that considering THIS WHOLE THING DEVIATES FROM CANON ANYWAY BUT!   
> Thank you for reading :)


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